


Don't Rain On My Parade

by Hadelli



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 22:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadelli/pseuds/Hadelli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not like rain in London is anything newsworthy. But when one forgets his umbrella at home, it can be annoying as hell.</p><p> </p><p>Only maybe being trapped in an Apple Store wasn't the worst thing to happen to Kurt Hummel..</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Rain On My Parade

**Author's Note:**

> Would you look at that? With the summer heat melting us to puddles of gross sweat, I decided to write something to cool us all off. Or not. I think the heat did something to my word-forming-abilities. 
> 
> This is an alternative way Klaine could have met.  
> As always, all feedback is appreciated. :)

It wasn’t like Kurt needed anything important in the Apple Store. Just a new pen for his Ipad since he had overheard one of his colleagues gush about this new one that made all the difference. And while it wasn’t in his budget to spoil himself with Dolce&Gabbana, he could at least have a new fancy work tool to make his sketches just a tad smoother.

And then it started to rain. He had gotten used to it after a year; the cliché of the constant rain in London wasn’t such a cliché after all.

But, of course, today he had left his umbrella at home. His weather app had promised sun and a few clouds here and there, not the rain that was hailing down against the floor to ceiling windows of the Apple store in Covent Garden. It was probably one of the nicer places to be trapped in with its brick walls and clean and sleek look. Still.

Kurt really should have expected this to happen. His whole day had been a series of _spilling his coffee and someone getting the last cinnamon muffin and losing a button_. He should have just gone home. Instead of believing that his day could improve if he spoiled himself a bit, even if it was with stupid technical stuff. And there was no way, _no way_ , he was leaving the store before the rain cleared. He was wearing his favorite Louboutin wild leather loafers. And his hair was, despite the horrible day, still perfect. He didn’t want to come home looking like a drenched poodle.

Kurt looked around, hoping to find some sort of amusing diversion. Covent Garden was full of tourists at this time of the day, which almost always made for some entertainment. Right now, people were playing on the Ipad’s and MacBook’s, passing their time and waiting for the worst of the rain to pass.

Kurt did not want to play on an Ipad. He wanted to be home and watch something atrocious on TV. He leaned against one of the many white tables and sighed, resigned to the fact that he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

He was playing a game of Candy Crush on his phone when he saw droplets of water dripping dangerously near his shoes out of the corner of his eyes.

When he looked up, he had to suppress a laugh. A guy was standing in front of him, maybe one and a half meters away, and he was absolutely _soaked_.

He was about Kurt’s age, maybe a little older, wearing a black polo shirt and bright red skin tight slacks. At least they were skin-tight now, as was his polo, clinging to his muscles and Kurt had to remind himself not to stare. His hair was plastered to his forehead and he looked _miserable_. Miserable people usually didn’t appreciate being creeped on. Actually, no one did.

Kurt directed his eyes back to his phone and cursed quietly. He had completely forgotten that this was one of the timed levels.

He was just about to restart it when he heard a distinctive squishy noise and saw soggy black boat shoes coming in his direction. When he looked up again, the drenched guy was standing right in front of him, grimacing faintly at the sounds his shoes made at his every step.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but do you maybe have a tissue or- something? I’m somewhat afraid they’re going to kick me out like this.”

He extended his arms as if to showcase his complete sopping self and Kurt’s lips formed a smile out of their own violation. Up close, he was adorable. Even with the hair. The droplets that were still hanging onto his eyelashes only emphasized his amazing caramel-colored eyes. The slight blush in his cheeks made him look younger and Kurt was now sure that they were the same age. It only took him about a ¼ second to make a decision on how to react.

“You’ve come to the right person. I even have a towel. I was planning on going to Yoga class after this, but evidently, I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. You can take it. It’s clean, I swear.”

He was already rummaging through his small work-out-bag, pulling out his towel with a triumphant grin.

The guy was watching him like he was a dream come true.

“Are you sure? You are amazing, really, thank you so much. You have no idea how terrible I feel right now. The rain surprised me at the _worst_ moment. Thank you!”

He was still rambling on when Kurt shoved the towel in his hands with a patented Kurt Hummel eye-roll.

“It’s truly no problem. Don’t worry about it”, he assured sloppy guy.

Kurt knew it probably wasn’t polite to watch someone towel themselves off, but he was doing it right in front of him, using _his_ towel, so really, what’s a guy to do? He had finally dried his arms and face and was now rubbing the towel over his hair; his dark curls standing up in every direction and of course, Kurt’s imagination went to a much more intimate place; watching him do this after coming out of a shared shower, warm skin and too much vapor in his miniscule bathroom.

Kurt averted his eyes and tried to reign in his blush.

“This is so typical; I’m not made to be living abroad. It’s my first week here in London, I’m doing a year abroad at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art but, so far, it’s not going too well. I miss New York. I mean, it’s not like there isn’t any rain in New York, but at least I have friends there who would come rescue me with an umbrella if I bribed them with enough booze. Instead, I am completely soaked and have to creep on a cute guy in an Apple Store I don’t even want to buy anything in. And now you’re thinking that I’m hitting on you, but I promise I’m not because believe me, I know that right now I don’t look like I’m even _close_ your league and if I were hitting on you I would be a lot smoother but maybe London has destroyed my ability to hit on gorgeous boys because otherwise I wouldn’t still be talking and creeping you out while using your towel which you undoubtedly regret by now and oh my god, what is wrong with me?”

Kurt’s eyes had gotten bigger and bigger and by the end of soppy guys’ rambly speech, he couldn’t have held back his grin if his life had depended on it. Soppy guy, on the other hand, looked ready to march back out and drown in one of the puddles.

Kurt decided he was too cute to die before they had gone on at _least_ one date, so he did what seemed to be the best logical next step.

“I’m Kurt.”

Soppy guy stared at him incredulously before his face broke out into one big sunny smile which was sure to chase the rain away. Not that Kurt cared.

“I’m Blaine.”


End file.
